David Cronenberg on 'Maps to the Stars' and why we're all so desperate to be seen

Why do stars leak their own sex tapes? Why do we feel an overwhelming urge to measure our lives in selfies? Why do we know who Snooki and JWoww are? Because, as cult Toronto filmmaker David Cronenberg reminds us in his brutally funny new film, Maps to the Stars, to be seen means to exist. And we’re all so bloody desperate for it.

The 71-year-old director has entertained audiences for nearly four decades with body-horror classics (The Fly, Dead Ringers) and psychological spine-chillers (A History of Violence, Eastern Promises). Now, with this twisted Oedipal tragedy, Tinseltown and its endless supply of neurotics have his undivided attention. With its Vicodin-munching villains, obligatory Robert-Pattinson-limo-sex sequence and greed-enabling ecosystem, the film exudes a distinctly Cronenbergian feel. And after the disappointingly didactic Cosmopolis, it’s great to see the director back in fine form.

Maps to the Stars’s delusional bunch includes Havana Segrand (Julianne Moore at her most hysterical), a filthy-rich, middle-aged actress fighting for the lead role in the remake of a film her late mother once starred in. Havana’s predatory therapist (John Cusack) is the kind of slime ball who tells his miserable, heavily medicated patients that “everything happens for a reason.” The therapist’s preteen son, Benjie (Evan Bird), is a bratty millionaire actor and recovering drug addict. These wealthy narcissists are all clearly beyond salvation, but as one character shrewdly remarks, “that kind of income would fuck up Mother Teresa.” Nightlife.ca chatted with Cronenberg at the Toronto International Film Festival about creative risk-taking, evil twins and that nagging fear actors have of being discarded.

Nightlife.ca: You don’t see the film as an overt attack on Hollywood. How so?Cronenberg: For one, you could have set it in Silicon Valley or Wall Street – anywhere people are desperate and ambitious. Also, both [writer] Bruce Wagner and I resist the word satire because I think the term has become diminished over time. Most people now just think of it as a nasty, funny critique or attack on something. For me, a satire is really Jonathan Swift’s A Modest Proposal. A very exaggerated, fantastical, vicious attack on something. I think this film is way too realistic to be called a satire.

Benjie, the child actor/monster manipulator/rehab regular is so keenly aware of his bankability. Did you imagine any real-life parallels with today’s young stars?You think Justin Bieber doesn’t know his net worth?